A Memorable Birthday
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: After reading chapter two of my advent's calendar story, many readers wanted more about Harry's primary school teacher. Here you are. The Dursleys go on holidays and leave Harry alone on his seventh birthday. Completely AU, neglect!Dursleys, sick!Harry


**A Memorable Birthday**

**~ by Healer Pomfrey ~**

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– **for Clayva – Happy Birthday! –**

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.  
I am not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes._

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Sniffling and coughing, Harry slowly dragged himself out of his cupboard upon hearing the door bell. '_Strange_,' he mused. '_I thought everyone knew that the Dursleys were on holidays_.' He hesitantly opened the door, unsure if he should open at all. The only thing he knew was that he was supposed to work in the garden. However, shortly after the Dursleys left, he had caught a bad cold, and today he was feeling too unwell to do his chores in the hot summer sun.

"Hello Harry," a gentle voice called out to him, and he recognised his school teacher. She was carrying a flat, colourful present, which she pushed into his hands. "Happy Birthday, Harry," she said in a gentle voice.

"Is it my birthday?" Harry asked in surprise, unconsciously playing with the green ribbon on the yellow wrapping paper that was decorated with balloons in every colour he could imagine.

"Yes Harry, you're seven today. Didn't your relatives celebrate your birthday?" the teacher queried, taking in the child's sickly appearance.

"No, my relatives are on holidays," Harry admitted in a small but hoarse voice.

"Your relatives are on holidays and left you here all on your own?" the teacher asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Harry admitted slowly, only to add hurriedly, "but it's all right. I'm fine on my own."

The teacher let out a snort. "You seem to have caught a bad cold. I wouldn't call that fine." She carefully reached out and laid a cold hand on the child's forehead. "You have a fever, Harry. Is really no one there to take care of you?" she asked incredulously, pondering what to do as Harry slowly shook his head.

"I'm going to take you home with me, and I'll call Child Service. Do you have any other relatives or godparents?"

"No." Harry sadly shook his head. '_No one wants a freak like me anyway_,' he thought, letting out a few harsh coughs.

"Harry, show me to your room. We will pack a few things for you, and I'll take you with me until your relatives come back. Do you know when they're going to return?"

"I don't know. They said they would be away for three weeks, but I'm not sure how many days have passed since that. Maybe five," Harry croaked, leaning on to the wall in exhaustion, before he pointed to his cupboard. "My room, but I don't have much to take with me," he explained in a barely audible voice.

"Harry, do I understand correctly that you live in the cupboard under the stairs?" the teacher enquired sharply.

"Yes Madame," Harry replied in a barely audible voice and shortly explained that he had to be very grateful to have a roof over the head.

Shaking her head in exasperation, the teacher stepped to the telephone and called her best friend, who was the nurse at Harry's school. Harry, who had let himself sink onto the floor, listened uncomfortably how the teacher explained about his situation, before she asked the nurse to meet them at her home. Finally, the teacher scribbled a note for Petunia, laid it on the kitchen table and led the sick child out of the house.

Harry sighed in relief when the teacher helped him into the car and motioned for him to lie down on the back seat. He was still clutching the present close. '_My first birthday present ever_,' he thought happily, wondering what might be inside.

HP HAPPY BIRTHDAY HP

A few minutes later, the car stopped, and the teacher carefully helped Harry out and into a house, which seemed much smaller than that of the Dursleys.

"Let's put you to bed in my guest room for the time being," the teacher explained gently as she led him into a small bedroom.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, looking wide-eyed at the comfortable looking bed, when the teacher motioned for him to lie down.

"I'm not supposed to sleep on a bed," he croaked, barely audibly, "because I'm a freak." '_She should know that I'm a freak. I've often done freakish things at school_,' he thought in surpise at the teacher's apparent ignorance.

"Harry, listen well," the teacher replied in a firm but friendly voice, gently pushing Harry onto the bed, "I know that you can do things, which normal people can't. I witnessed that often enough. However, you're not a freak. You're a very good boy."

Harry gratefully lay down on the bed. '_Oh, this feels so nice. It's much softer than my own bed in my cupboard_,' he thought, mumbling a hoarse "Thank you" to the teacher, before he closed his eyes.

"No Harry, you must not sleep yet," the teacher told him in her soft voice, just when they heard the bell ring. "That's probably the nurse. I want her to check on you, before we consider what to do."

"Okay," Harry replied miserably, hugging his still wrapped birthday present.

An instant later, the nurse entered the room and sat on the edge of Harry's bed, placing a small blue bag on the night table.

"Hello Harry," she said softly, "what exactly is ailing you? Does anything hurt?"

"It's all right," Harry whispered, "I just don't feel so good, but it's not so bad." He knew better than to complain.

Suddenly, an icy hand found the way to his forehead, making him shiver at the cold touch. The nurse frowned and opened her bag, pulling out a thermometer.

"Open your mouth please," she instructed him and slid the glassy device into his mouth.

'_Oh, that feels yucky and icy_,' Harry thought, feeling very uncomfortable. While they were waiting, the nurse and the teacher discussed how to proceed.

"I will call the registration office to see if he has anyone named as godparents or guardians and to let them know that we had to rescue Harry, so that we won't be accused of child abduction," the teacher said firmly.

"I think that would be the best," the nurse agreed and took the wet cloth that the teacher handed her to wipe the sweat off Harry's forehead and cheeks.

Harry looked gratefully, when she finally took back the thermometer. "38.8," she told him, frowning, and began to examine him. Harry gave her a frightened look when she placed a stethoscope on his chest to auscultate his lungs. "You don't have to be afraid, Harry," she told him softly. "Have you never been examined by a doctor?"

"No," Harry croaked, waiting uncomfortably when she looked into his mouth and his ears.

The nurse sighed. "You have bronchitis, and you need proper care; otherwise you'll wind up in the hospital with pneumonia very shortly."

"I'm sorry for being such a burden," Harry croaked, looking at the nurse from half-open glassy eyes.

The nurse gave him a horrified look. "No, Harry, you are not a burden. And you're very ill and need to be looked after. Let's wait until your teacher comes back from phoning the registration office. If they agree, you will stay here, so that we can properly take care of you." She handed him a spoonful of a pink liquid, followed by another spoonful of a white liquid.

Harry obediently took his medicine, shuddering at the taste. "I'm sorry that is doesn't tastes good, but it'll help you get better," the nurse said softly and handed him a small glass of water.

Harry gratefully drank the cool liquid, and the nurse took the glass back commending him in her soft voice, "Well done, Harry. Now lie down and try to sleep for a while please."

HP HAPPY BIRTHDAY HP

In the meantime, the teacher spoke on the phone. She was connected from one person to the next a few times, before she could finally speak with the responsible person. The man told her that there were strange marks next to Harry's name, which he couldn't understand. "However, it says that the boy has an informal godmother, who can't be contacted directly. There is a contact telephone number though."

The teacher quickly scribbled the number on a small piece of paper, absentmindedly playing with the edges of the paper, while the man explained that it was the number of a person with the name Mrs. Figg. She listened as he gave her instructions to call again to inform him what was going to happen to Harry, so that they could contact Child Services and officially remove him from the Dursleys' care after a short investigation and a small conversation with Harry after his recovery. She thanked the man and quickly dialed the number he had told her.

To her relief, Mrs. Figg answered the phone and turned out to be not only a very kind woman, but also extremely helpful.

"Yes, Harry has an informal godmother. She is a good friend of mine. I'll try to contact her."

The teacher gave Mrs. Figg her address and hung up, before she returned to her guest room. "I spoke to a lady, who knows Harry, and she told me she would send someone, Harry's informal godmother in fact, to pick him up as soon as possible," she told her colleague.

"That's good because I'm afraid that his condition is worsening rapidly," the nurse replied, worriedly trying to cool Harry's hot skin. "If his fever continues to go up, we have to call a doctor. I think that he needs antibiotics, which I can't prescribe for him." She gently pulled his covers down just a little and reached under the short sleeve of his T-shirt to coax the thermometer under his armpit, worriedly waiting for the reading to take place. "Yes, it has gone up a whole degree," she confirmed, before she curiously asked, "What the heck is in the present he has been clutching all the time?"

The teacher sighed. "It's just a fourth class Math book. In spite of being in second class, Harry loves to do Math and he is able to do fourth class Math. He is a mathematic genius, although he always does very poorly in his tests, which I have come to assume must be deliberately for some reason. Since he told me once that he doesn't own one single book," she raised an eyebrow at her friend, "I decided to give him a Math book for his birthday. I thought if it looked like homework, the Dursleys couldn't complain if I gave it to him."

Harry drifted in and out of consciousness, captured in fever induced nightmares. '_There are two dragons talking to each other, but I can't understand them,_' he thought. However, suddenly, one of the dragons started to breathe fire at him. '_Oh, not again,_' he thought in annoyance. '_I already feel so hot. Can't you breathe ice instead?_' he asked the dragons and suddenly felt a chill creep over his body that caused him to shiver violently.

Harry's feverish mind didn't hear the door bell ring. However, suddenly, a third dragon joined the others and began to speak in a friendly voice with a strange accent.

"My name is Minerva McGonagall. I am teacher at a boarding school in Scotland. I will take Harry with me. Thank you so much for alerting me to the problem," the dragon that was dressed in green said firmly.

Harry lazily opened his eyes that wouldn't open very wide due to his high fever and gave the green dragon a weary glance. '_Something about her seems familiar, but I'm not sure why_,' he thought, closing his eyes again as the nurse began to give her fellow dragon instructions.

"Did you come by car?" the nurse asked sternly. "Harry is very ill and in no condition to walk or take a bus or something. You should take him straight to a doctor in any case."

"Yes, it is right around the corner," the green dragon replied and gently scooped Harry up to carry him. "He is very light, isn't he?" she said in surprise as she walked downstairs.

"We're afraid that the Dursleys neglected him in every way," the teacher replied, looking in concern at the small figure in the woman's arms as she held the entrance door open for the strange couple.

"I will take good care of him," the woman promised soothingly and swiftly walked around the corner, before she carefully touched Harry's hand with the ring she wore on her left hand and mumbled something.

Harry felt a slight pull behind his navel, and had he felt bad before, he felt absolutely horrible now. The whole world seemed to be turning around, and he started to whimper silently and put a small thumb into his mouth to calm himself and to prevent his teeth from chattering.

Finally, the travel came to an end, and Harry felt himself being put down on the softest bed he had ever lain on. Suddenly, he sensed that someone sat on the edge of the bed.

"Harry, welcome to Hogwarts," a soft voice spoke to him, before he felt a strange, tingly sensation gliding his body up and down and curiously opened his eyes.

'_This feels funny, but it also feels very normal_,' he thought, looking around for the dragons. He could see two dragons, the green one that had rescued him and was now sitting right next to him and a white one. The white one was standing in front of the bed, waving something at him.

"My poor child; how did you get so sick?" the soft voice from before with the strange accent spoke to him, but Harry felt too bad to even think of a proper answer.

He suddenly felt something cold pressed against his mouth and quickly opened his mouth and swallowed, nearly jumping in fright when he realized that it was not water but a very strange liquid he was gulping down. However, before he could complain, he noticed that he suddenly felt much better. He felt the pain slowly recede and his burning skin cool down conisderably. Harry lazily opened his eyes that were still not back to their usual brilliant green. The dragons were gone and had been replaced by a woman in a green dress and one in a white dress.

"Harry, I'm sorry," the green woman explained softly. "The Headmaster wanted you to stay with your relatives to keep you safe. But after all that your school teachers told me, I'm not going to leave you with them anymore. I knew your parents well. Your mother was like a daughter to me, and I often babysat you when you were a baby. I will adopt you and raise you here at our school as my grandson. You will be Harry McGonagall, and I hope that you'll be much happier here. Welcome home, Harry." The woman leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead, causing Harry to throw her a surprised look at the display of affection he couldn't remember having received ever before.

"Thank you," Harry whispered gratefully. '_I am already very happy here_,' he thought as he drifted off into a much needed healing sleep, hearing Minerva promise, "Sweetie, we're going to have a proper birthday party tomorrow when you feel better."

"I'm glad we fetched him now instead of waiting four more years," Minerva whispered to Poppy, looking at the small boy, who was already fast asleep with a smile playing on his lips and was still cuddling his first present ever close.

**The End**


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